The Legend: A New Beginning
by Lady Saramye
Summary: The minions of Evil have long since been dispersed and the Master Sword rusts within its pedestal once more, forgotten in the shrouds of myth. Generations have gone by in peace, and even the Sages have passed. Yet Time has not helped to quench the intenti
1. Default Chapter

The minions of Evil have long since been dispersed and the Master Sword rusts within its pedestal once more, forgotten in the shrouds of myth. Generations have gone by in peace, and even the Sages have passed. Yet Time has not helped to quench the intentions of Evil. And as the King gains power, so too doth his own.  
  
An Autumn breeze whispers across a great field, creating gentle emerald waves. A young woman stares into the distance. One hand comes up to replace a wisp of dark hair behind a pointed ear, the other reaches to hold down ruffled skirts. Dying skeins of fiery gold play across the delicate features of face and brow. She sighs and settles down to wait.  
  
It had taken three days of bribery, preparation, and travel across barren desert and over nameless hills, but he had done it. Climbing over the final rise and leaning heavily upon the great rowan staff in his hand, Mavrik Boh couldn't help let out a great heave of relief. "Its over, its finally over. I'm home!" Eyes of clear and contemplative hazel looked out across the land which they had not seen in months, taking everything in  
  
. Below were the rivers and peoples of his boyhood and, gleaming proudly in golden silhouette, stood the great Castle of Hyrule. After brutal months of training in the merciless desert heat, he had finally come home to defend her.  
  
"Mavrik!" A shadow rose against the green, and there stood the secret purpose of his training.  
  
Cupping sun browned hands about his mouth he returned, "Sara!" And then all was forgotten. Sore muscles to longer seemed so bothersome, and a tired soul filled with heart. What fools they would have seemed to any passers by, but there were none there now to see.  
  
"Mavrik!" Saramye squealed again in delight, jumping into open arms.  
  
"I am pleased to see you as well!" he laughed. "I have missed you, my lady." And with that he bowed deeply and elegantly.  
  
"Oh, stop this pompous nonsense before it begins to go to your head!"  
  
"My lady is so kind with her words." He frowned like a little child and lowered his eyes.  
  
"You can't fool me with that sorry act. I thought I taught you better." He looked up suddenly with a wolfish grin. "A young maiden such as yourself should learn to respect her elders."  
  
"Mavrik! Mavrik, no wait! Stop!" She giggled as he playfully scooped her up in his arms, put her over one shoulder and started walking. "You.are.im-possible!"  
  
"And you're worse," he replied with a play at nonchalance, and continued as though she weighed nothing at all.  
  
"Mavrik! My love, stop this at once!" she said, and there were traces of worry in her voice as she said it.  
  
"Not until you learn a little respect." He grinned over his shoulder at her.  
  
"Really, love," her voice changed, suddenly soft and sincere. "You're going to hurt yourself, you look exhausted."  
  
"Alright, alright," he grumbled, yet he was beginning to feel the weariness once more. Setting Saramye beneath a nearby tree, he unshouldered his great knapsack and sat beside her.  
  
"So, tell me of your travels," she asked with child's curiosity, bringing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. "Well," he began, running one hand through his hair, "it hasn't been easy, but it'll be worth it once I reach the garrison."  
  
"Defending the kingdom's noblest city, I'm impressed."  
  
"I was counting on it," he smiled.  
  
"Why train in the desert, though? Why not here at home?"  
  
Mavrik looked up at the rapidly failing light. "Come on, lets go home. I'll tell you on the way there."  
  
They left the comfort of the shade and continued northeast. As the came to the bridge where the Zora River flowed into the aqueducts of the capital city Mavrik continued, with Sara making occasional comments as they went.  
  
"Its not that I doubt your story, but I don't understand something."  
  
"What is it, love?"  
  
"Why in Goddess' wisdom would they begin a tradition to honor their enemies?"  
  
"They aren't our enemies any longer, Sara. Desert training works out for everyone: garrison soldiers are up to par with desert troops and ties are forged which keep the peace within the Races." He shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, if we can keep an eye on them and prevent those desert whores from spawning another Evil King, gain their knowledge, and make everything look honky-dory, why not?"  
  
Saramye shook her head, raven wisps falling into her eyes as she looked up at him and said, "But look where we have come. Look what it has done to our people. The Races don't trust each other anymore, Mavrik.  
  
"Of course we do, Sara, only now we are better informed so that the Great Wars or something like them might never happen again."  
  
"I understand what you are saying, but I still can't help but feel as though all of these so-called alliances will conspire somehow to be our demise."  
  
"Sara, my Talent, you shouldn't worry about these things. Our people are safe. Besides, that's why I came back: to protect you so you wouldn't have to worry."  
  
She lowered her eyes shyly and smiled. "Thank you. But never mind, I'm just glad you're back." He returned her smile and hugged her with his free arm. The night's first twinkling lights began to appear, cool star glow found the pair climbing the long set of stairs up the base of the mountain and into the sleepy haven above. They nodded to the guard at the gate and continued.  
  
"This place hasn't changed much since I left."  
  
"It never does," she smiled bemused. And it was true. While the rest of the world progressed during the New Age after the Wars and cities grew, Kakariko Village had remained quite unchanged. And why shouldn't it? No one was interested in a humdrum little town while the rest of the world awaited full of new ideas and adventure! Yet to the simple craftsmen and homemakers who called the hamlet home, it was a peaceful retreat from the stressors of the great wide world.  
  
"Here we are. Mama, we're home," she called, pushing open the door. The little cottage they entered was not unlike the rest of the houses in the village. It was small and quaint, with a stove in one corner, great storage jars in another, and a wooden table and chairs in the center of the room.  
  
"There you are, dear. I was beginning to worry," replied a hardy little woman in an apron. Mousy brown hair was tucked haphazardly into a knot at her nape, and her hands were worn from years of washing and ironing. Yet the eyes which looked up proudly at her children were bright as she said, "Hullo, dear."  
  
"Hello, mother. You look just as beautiful as ever." He flashed a disarming smile.  
  
"Oh, you still know how to make an old girl's bones warm, Mavrik. You must be exhausted child! Come warm yourself by the stove. Sara, fetch our guest something to drink before he turns in."  
  
"Really Ademina," he insisted, placing a hand on Sara's elbow as she went to do as her mother asked, "its all right. I feel fine. And before you ask, I'm not thirsty or hungry."  
  
"Humph!" Ademina snorted inelegantly. "Well you'll be sorry in the morning. And don't go helping yourself to my stew in the middle of the night either," she chided playfully.  
  
"Yes, Mother Hen." To Sara he said, "Still as feisty as ever I see."  
  
"She just missed you, that's all."  
  
Mavrik took one hand in his, turned it over and kissed the palm. "Come sit by the fire and conspire with me into the night."  
  
"Why are we whispering?"  
  
"Because it makes things more interesting, don't you think?" he smiled.  
  
She returned it mischievously and replied, "In that case, conspire away, my lord, the night is young and so are we." Making sure her mother was already asleep in the room they shared, Sara settled comfortably on his lap and allowed him to hold her into the late hours until they fell asleep long after.  
  
They awoke late the next morning to sore muscles from sleeping in an awkward position, and a cheery, "Good morning, loves!" from Ademina. Apparently the aches did not allow them to see what was so good about it, and they said so with many a grumble.  
  
"Breakfast is on the table. I hope you still like eggs, Mavrik, I'm afraid that's all the butcher had so early in the morning."  
  
"Eggs, stew, bread - anything Ademina as long as you made it," he yawned.  
  
"Aw, thank you, dearest." She kissed them both lightly on the cheek and was out the door saying, "I have errands to run. Be back by sun down. Have fun you two!"  
  
"She sure is a lively one for its being so early." He rubbed away the sleep from his eyes and sat down. "Yes well, what can I tell you." She sat across from him at the table. Everything was in place from the placemats to the utensils. There was nothing to be done all day once this meal was finished and the dishes washed and they both knew it.  
  
"You're so quiet. Are you alright?"  
  
"Hmm?," she asked dreamily. "Oh fine, just a little groggy is all. Say, I was thinking that perhaps you would be interested in a friendly game of archery after breakfast."  
  
"Friendly" always meant the exact opposite with Sara, and Mavrik knew this only too well. "Sure, I'd love to. But don't be surprised if I win."  
  
"You have gotten cocky for all of your time spent away from here. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised to find that you aren't the only one who has improved."  
  
"Of course not, I was counting on it," he retorted pleasantly.  
  
Thus, they cleaned their plates as quickly as they could and raced outside into the square, past the stone well, up the great steps and into the Shooting Gallery. "Good morning, Sir!"  
  
"Hullo there, Sara!" boomed the burley man behind the counter. "What can I do for you this mornin'?" he asked, placing his wide hands on the counter with a slap.  
  
"One game for each of us, please."  
  
"You got it, lass." He turned around to take two ash bows from the wall, turned back and asked, "Who's the lad?" with a grin.  
  
"Oh, Bard you remember Mavrik, don't you?"  
  
"Is that so! Mavrik you dog, I haven't seen you 'round these parts in years! Not since yer dad used to bring you in for practice when you were just a lad!"  
  
"Yes, it has been quite a while, hasn't it?" He reached over the counter and clasped the great man by the forearm, as was custom.  
  
"I should say so! Where have you been, lad?"  
  
"The desert," he replied casually as he checked and tested his bow.  
  
"The desert!? With all them whores? What for?"  
  
"Training for the garrison troops." "When did you join the army? Well, never mind that, you keep your eyes on those desert wenches an' look out for us, ya 'ear?"  
  
"Actually," Mavrik began, but Sara interrupted him.  
  
"There's no need for that anymore, haven't you heard? Under the Treaty of Lei all our soldiers train with them. We steal their technique, keep a tight fist on all of their movements, and backstab them with their own knowledge if necessary." With that she turned and began to aim at the targets on the far wall.  
  
Neither of the men missed her tempered sarcasm. "What was that all abou'?" Bard asked cautiously in hushed tones.  
  
"She thinks that the treaty is being abused and that some great evil will come of it," Mavrik returned.  
  
"Ah." The older man nodded sagely. "I wouldn't doubt our Sara's warnin's, if you take my meaning. She's developed quite the queer habit of knowin' things afore their time."  
  
"Its only her worry, that's all."  
  
"Aye," he consented, "could be. But I don't think so. Every so often she says somethin' to me that makes me wonder." He spread his arms wide and shrugged. "Perhaps you're right, lad. A lady's feelin's are nothing to toy with. So you best take care of 'er," he warned gruffly.  
  
"As always, good friend." Mavrik knew that that was just the big man's way of coming across.  
  
"Well, are we going to have at it or what, my desrei." It was a mockery, it meant "desert king".*  
  
"I'm going to make you eat those words, mystic," he challenged.  
  
"I think she's goin' ta give you a run fer yer money there, Mavrik. Be careful, she's not half as bad as she looks."  
  
"Thank you for the complement, my lord Master (.)," Sara retorted with an elegant bow.  
  
"Go get her, lad," Bard encouraged. "Make her eat those words and pay for the use of my facilities!"  
  
"Yes, sir!" Mavrik replied with a smile. Both archers set their weapons and the competition began. "Ah, young love," thought the burley man dreamily to himself.  
  
It was around noon when Ademina went to the well to begin the wash. Heaving the great bucket over the side, she dropped it into the water with a plop. As she bent for the clothes in the basket at her feet and braced herself against the stone as she stumbled. "Ooh! Steady old girl," she said to herself. But as her hands reached for the bucket she stumbled once more and this time noticed that there were great ripples in the water. Again the earth shook and this time with more force. And then, just as suddenly as the strange quakes began, they ceased.  
  
"Well, I wonder what that was all about." The little woman shrugged away her curiosity and continued about her task.  
  
Within the Shooting Gallery, Mavrik was watching Sara aim at one of his arrows on the bull's-eye mark when they stumbled and the arrow shot into the hay just at their feet. "Whoa! Careful," Mavrik said, placing a hand underneath her elbow to help her up.  
  
"I should tell you the same!" she laughed.  
  
"What was that all abou'?" Bard boomed from one of the back rooms.  
  
"Well that was strange." She bent to retrieve the fallen arrow.  
  
"I think that's enough archery for one day. Lets get some lunch."  
  
"Giving up so soon?" Sara asked with laughing eyes.  
  
"It was a stalemate, Sara," Mavrik corrected, rolling his own. "Besides, you can't tell me that your stomach isn't feeling as empty as mine."  
  
"Very true, my love, very true." She turned from the counter where she had returned the bows and kissed him. "You're paying," she said suddenly as a child who is playing tag, and ran out the door.  
  
"Hey! Sara!" He took a step after her, paused to haphazardly drop a few colorful rupees on the counter, and left with a loud, "Bye, thanks, Bard!"  
  
"Sara? Sara where the -. Sara where are you!"  
  
"Boo!" She jumped out at him from behind the corner of the brick gallery and giggled.  
  
"Child!" Mavrik chided lovingly.  
  
"No more so than you are!" came the obvious retort.  
  
"Come here you!"  
  
"Mavrik, no!" Sara gasped between choked laughter as he tickled her ribs. "Stop. Stop. Mavrik wait!"  
  
"That's not going to work on me Sara."  
  
"No, seriously! Are those horses?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
As surely as she was Hylian, there was the sound of hooves clopping on the dirt. A man clad in the silver mail of the garrison troops rode in through the gates. His mount bore the crest of the royal family embroidered on its (pre-saddle blanket thingy).  
  
"You there!" the rider called to Ademina who was still by the well.  
  
She turned, quite startled. "Yes, sir, how might I be of help?" she finally  
  
answered.  
  
"Would you happen to know one Mavrik Boh? He is a soldier just released from training, I was told that he often travels this way."  
  
"I am not quite sure who you speak of, sir," she lied. "What business might this pertain to?"  
  
"None of your own, madam - with all due respect," he tacked on.  
  
"Then I am afraid - "  
  
"I am Mavrik Boh, soldier." He stepped out from behind the Gallery where Sara was still concealed.  
  
"Do you always hide from royal messengers?" the rider asked suspiciously.  
  
"Are you always this rude to women and your fellow soldiers?" came the impatient retort.  
  
"Fair enough," he conceded. "You have been summoned by His Majesty. You are to report to duty at once. The Commander expects all soldiers are to be at the garrison before nightfall." And with that he turned his mount and rode off as unexpectedly as he had come.  
  
"Love, what was that all about? Must you go already?" came Sara's voice in solemn tones. She stepped out into the square dejectedly.  
  
"I suppose so." Then, seeing her expression, "Please don't be sad, Sara. I'm sure they'll let me leave soon."  
  
"Yes, of course," she replied numbly, and Mavrik couldn't help but notice how determined she seemed not to cry and the way she refused to look at him. Silently he held out his arms to her as on the morning before, but there was no joy in the embrace.  
  
"I'm sorry, Sara. I'll make it up to you when I return, I promise."  
  
"Its alright, it can't be helped," she tried.  
  
"There's time left yet until he has to leave," her mother offered, but she only nodded silently into Mavrik's shoulder.  
  
He looked to Ademina for guidance, some sort of sign as to what he should do. She shrugged and looked away. "Come on, I have something I want to show you," he said finally.  
  
Sara looked up hopefully and followed after him. He led her through the square, past her home, up the steps and onto a ledge where the old watchtower stood. It was useless now save for sightseers and stargazers late at night. And the thing which Mavrik wanted to show her she had always seen. When they reached the top of the climb there was a perfect unobscured view of the now slowly sinking sun as it passed beneath the mountain. Rent clouds of soft pink and lilac accented brilliant gold, silhouetting the landscape in dreamy hues.  
  
In the midst of all of this beauty came Mavrik's kind embrace. "Do you see that, Sara?" Entwining her fingers with his own he guided he hand to trace the shadow of the mountain.  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  
"See how the sun keeps the cold away from Death?"  
  
"Mavrik, what are you talking ab -"  
  
He kissed her lightly into silence. "The sun, Sara, Farore's gift to this earth. The Mother Goddess who gave us life. I was like that mountain before I knew that things more brilliant than the sun existed," he looked into her eyes purposefully. "For that I intend to thank you. I was so full of hate, dark as the shadow under that mountain there," he continued, reminiscing. "When I was in the desert, whenever I felt overwhelmed I looked towards Death Mountain and thought of you."  
  
She laughed at the inappropriate irony in the name as well as for the blush in her cheeks. Mavrik laughed as well. "The name doesn't fit, I know. But, my point is - " He sighed in frustration. "Sara I just want you to know that I feel as though I could live my life without the company of any other living thing except you. I just.I don't know what I would do without you."  
  
Do you truly mean that? She thought. But what she said was, "Love, even when you are not with me, I am with you in every aspect save in physical presence. You will never lose me, Mavrik. Never again."  
  
He smiled sheepishly. He loved everything about this girl. Her honesty and devotion, the way her smile made her eyes light up.  
  
It was a long time before their lips parted or she let him leave of her embrace.  
  
That night Mavrik left while she slept. Knowing he would be delayed, he reason was 'Better a scolding from the commander than a tear from her eyes.' "Thank you, Ademina."  
  
"No, thank you, dearest. I think she's better off this way," the older woman corrected as they watched her daughter's body slowly rise and fall to the rhythm of sweet sleep.  
  
"Yeah," came the sigh.  
  
She paused and then, "And what about you, Mavrik?"  
  
He smiled sadly. "Me? Oh I suppose its like Sara said: I have no choice." He shrugged. "No. This was my choice."  
  
"Now now, don't go beating yourself up about it. Besides," she soothed, "we're both very proud of your choices, Mavrik. They've made you into the man you are. And what a fine lad we have, too!"  
  
He smiled again. "Thanks, mom." Thus, he departed with a peck to her cheek.  
  
"Good speed, love. Goddess Blessing," she whispered behind him. 


	2. Chapter Two: Demons in the Dark

As always, the first step away from home was the most difficult to take for him. As a child it meant nothing save that he would be sure to return in time for supper, but now each time he left it could mean he would never return. A silent nod to the gate watchman on duty and the young form slipped into the shadows.  
  
Travel to the Great City was predictable. None were to be seen on the dirt roads, deserted for the present until morning. The great orb of the moon hung silently in the heavens above, accompanied by the pinpricks of stars, her ladies in waiting. She illuminated the pitch of darkness almost as if a beacon solemnly lit specifically for his travels on this lonely night. The silence was almost ominous. Not a blade of grass stirred, not a cricket's soft chirp to be heard.  
  
The massive south gate was open, illuminated by bright torches in the sconces to either side. Mavrik's boots seemed to make a great hollow boom with every step, and he could almost hear an angry citizen calling after him.  
  
"Ho there, lad!" someone shouted from the walls above, and Mavrik jumped at the sound. "What business does a traveler such as yourself have here at this time of night?"  
  
Looking up he found a nameless soldier in full arms. "I received a summons," came the reply.  
  
"Eh?" said the man rubbing his mustache, a look of consternation coming over his fat face. "Oh! Now I remember! You're that missing lad we've been expecting, aren'tcha, Mavrik Boh?" and his eyes gleamed as he said it.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Well come on up then and join the party!"  
  
Mavrik nodded, mumbling his thanks, and went towards the soldier opening the door in the passage to his right. The soldier nodded his recognition and called up, "Yep, it's him alright, Garon."  
  
Stepping inside the narrow, dimly lit passage Mavrik could see his fellows already formed up against one wall. They looked just as weary as he felt, albeit they had had more time to make themselves presentable. The commander stopped his inspection and came over to him.  
  
"Well then, Mr. Boh. You're late. Not a good sign from a soldier. I hope this, or anything like it, will not happen again," he said purposefully.  
  
"Yes, sir," he replied and took the last place next to a sturdy looking man in his early thirties.  
  
"Not good enough to be a soldier, eh?" the taller man whispered. "Well, I bet you know a few places where he could shove those words."  
  
Mavrik chuckled low in his throat. "You bet. He's right, though." "Yeah, that's what makes it worse." He looked over at him. "I'm Rone Walker." Mavrik took the invitation, "Mavrik Boh."  
  
"Gentlemen?" the commander called from further down the lines. Both men immediately turned to stone.  
  
Mavrik sized the other man over from the corner of his eye. There was something compelling about him, there was a mischievous fire in his intense gray eyes shaded by raven hair that suddenly made him want to fight alongside this man, fight for him as comrades.  
  
As it turned, Rone was the son of Rosseyn Walker, one of the greatest military minds of the age. It seemed appropriate that his son should tread his path. Everyone had heard of him. He had co-written and revised the treaty of Lei. His son, by contrast, hated war yet was a better archer than he was a diplomat.  
  
"Gentlemen," the commander began, interrupting Mavrik's thoughts. "I am sure that you all have conceived of the notion at one point or another within your young lives that our great kingdom of Hyrule, with its unifying treaties, impressive walls of protective stone, and its exemplary soldiers, that we are impenetrable - or at least pretty damn near it. However, as logic would dictate this is not so. And it certainly is not the case tonight. What I am about to tell you may come as a surprise." He paused and the silence which followed was ominous. "Gentlemen, have you ever heard of the legend of Zelda?"  
  
* * *  
  
"So its not an old wives' tale after all," one of the sturdier looking soldiers commented.  
  
"It would appear that way," came another.  
  
"Yes, but who would have believed in magic and fairies?" chuckled the first not without a little disbelief.  
  
"I wonder why no one has heard mention of their race until now," a third chimed in.  
  
"Heard of who?" Mavrik walked into the sleeping quarters sporting the same overstuffed knapsack over one shoulder.  
  
"They're talking about the race of Faerie." Rone came into the torchlight, arms folded about his chest, face lowered with a bemused grin which would have been almost cocky if not for slightly uplifted corners.  
  
"Faerie? Like in the legends?"  
  
"What are you deaf? Didn't you hear what the commander said?" asked the first man.  
  
"Yes but," he put up his hands in a gesture of peace, "I didn't think he was serious," he lied.  
  
Rone looked at him from behind curious eyes, his face set in stone. "You know, for someone who did so well in the desert, you sure take the words of higher authority lightly."  
  
Mavrik shrugged. "Yeah well, what can I tell you." Inwardly he gave a different reply. 'So, you've been looking through my reports have you? What for, Walker?'  
  
Rone didn't miss a beat. 'Haven't you figured it out yet?' his eyes replied. He had already begun to form his own conclusions.  
  
"Seriously though," the younger man sobered, "I do not doubt that there are endless possibilities for the forms of creation." He turned towards Rone, "Or the fact that the commander's suspicions are probably based upon some form of good judgement." 'And how is your judgement towards me?' he wondered. What the seasoned man did next surprised him.  
  
"I think you have passed my test, Mavrik," he replied aloud. He took a step closer. "I apologize, but I must make certain that all of my men are fit to deal not just with the trials of the body, but with those of the mind which lay ahead as well."  
  
It was all a game. He was testing him, but to what end? This was the part which took a bit more thought on Mavrik's part. Then, 'To see how well I can read others, and how well they can read me. Or perhaps to determine if I would ever prove traitor to my own reasoning.' He nodded decisively. 'Yes, I passed.'  
  
"I accept only the best the kingdom has to offer," Rone continued, extending his hand.  
  
"A little presumptuous, don't you think?" Mavrik smiled, reciprocating the gesture.  
  
"Which brings me to my next point. I haven't yet properly introduced myself." He leaned in and, with a comical play at sarcastic chastity added, "It's Lieutenant Commander Walker."  
  
As you can probably imagine, our young sir's eyes became like saucers with the shock (probably like your eyes right now I might wager). At this the older man laughed.  
  
"Come now, Mavrik, no need to look so.How might I put this?...Stupefied," he said finally. "Oh come off it, son. Relax."  
  
"Sir, I have a feeling we will get on well."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Because you just reminded me of someone back home, the way you spoke."  
  
The newly revealed Lieutenant Commander eyed him suspiciously. "Your girlfriend I shouldn't think. Well, as long as you don't try whispering sweet nothings in my ear when I'm trying to sleep I think we'll get along well enough."  
  
All present laughed and continued to chat as they prepared their bunks for the few hours rest they would receive before heading westward in the morning.  
  
* * *  
  
In Kakariko, the final fading comforts of starglow found Sara's slender form tossing and turning, gripping the sheets in sweaty palms.  
  
There was nothing but vicious dark within her mind. It gripped her in sudden flashes of blinding light. She was floating in this abyss. From the depths of oblivion came great clammy hands to grasp her mercilessly at the throat. She was herself, yet strangely without.  
  
Fingers the color of gang green tore into her flesh to become covered with her blood. The normally supple skin was stretched taught, and she saw her limp body being lifted effortlessly higher into the shadows like a rag doll. Her hands came to wrap around those that were draining her life force in a desperate attempt to survive. She saw herself thrash violently once, twice, and then hang motionless.  
  
The sight of her body torn and beaten was too much to bear. The reality was too much to bear. Sara cried out, but no one came. None were there to hear. Suddenly her eyes opened, revealing eyes that glowed the bright red of the hot liquid running from her open gape.  
  
Again she cried out, and this time the grotesque distortion of herself looked straight into her, seeing through her and began to laugh menacingly. What was at first a low growl grew to a hideous shriek which penetrated the very fiber of her being.  
  
Just as her phantom counterpart began to draw rapidly nearer, Sara awoke with a violent start. She was sitting wrapped in bed sheets soaked in the sweat of her fear. She looked up out of the window over her left shoulder letting the first faint rays of dawn warm pale cheeks.  
  
"It was a dream." There she would remain for a time, alone in the room she shared with her mother, lamenting whether what she had seen would eventually come to pass.  
  
* * *  
  
As Saramye tried to draw comfort from the first born of the Eastern Gold, those same skeins found two columns of Hyrule's finest marching soberly westward towards that light's nightly grave.  
  
The mindless task of placing one foot in front of the other allowed the soldiers' thoughts to wander elsewhere. Mavrik's in particular were bent on the information they had been given by the commander.  
  
"Although there are many forms of the tale, there is one which is actually accurate as written in the Histories. According to the chapters predating the Great Wars, there was once a sovereign noblewoman named Zelda as the legends say. She was an exemplary leader, in fact one of the best these lands have ever known, and during her sixty-year rule the peace went unbroken and the Races did not require treaties of alliances.  
  
However, as a young girl she dreamt frequently, and it was said that the dreams sometimes had an almost prophetic quality to them. One in particular told of the betrayal of one of her father's subjects, who was king before she ascended the throne.  
  
Her suspicions came to pass, and it was the Gerudo King Ganon who proved traitor. Her family was overthrown and the vast desert army slaughtered the rebels of the new regime. The visions had also shown, in what Zelda's mind was a ray of hope during those seven dark years. Soon afterwards, whether by prophecy or coincidence, a young man appeared, challenging the Evil King (as history would later call him) and slaying him within his own halls. Peace was restored, the now grown woman reclaimed her duties, and Hyrule's champion disappeared from record.  
  
This is why there is a clause in the Treaty of Lei which calls for the training of garrison soldiers on desert soil, and although we are now allies with the Gerudo, there are some which still believe that their king will someday return and restore their place in power.  
  
Gentlemen, this is why you have been summoned. There was an uprising only two days ago among the rebels. Already they have a great following among their people. We must disband their faction with the assumption that many of those involved are innocent and were forced into their current situation. That is, until the proper authorities can get involved and conduct a formal investigation.  
  
With that said, good speed and Goddess Blessing to you all. You leave before dawn."  
  
So here they were, marching towards the uncertain wastelands were only the heartiest of the desert born and bred survived. And while the rest of them seemed apprehensive of the task ahead of them, Rone seemed to mind not at all. All the while his eyes were bent perpetually towards the Westlands, every chord of muscle, every fiber of his being drawn taught with the hard lines of determination. The once merry eyes turned cold and lifeless as stone and Mavrik began to understand why none would want to be this man's adversary.  
  
Although he did not realize it, already Mavrik was becoming more and more like the men around him and less and less like the man those nearest to him knew.  
  
The small company continued like this for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon before finally reaching Farore's Bane, where the lush greens of Hyrule suddenly refused to grow and the ground became unsteady and soft. This was the gate to the West. A narrow passage between the arms of the surrounding cliffs and into the valley beyond where the Zora River came crashing down to greet Lake Hylia.  
  
Rone's hand came up suddenly for a halt. "You can rest here a moment before we continue."  
  
The grateful men sighed not without a little discomfort at the long march in such a short time, but gladly set down their gear and precious persons.  
  
"Boh."  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"At ease. Survey the landscape as far as is hospitable and return immediately."  
  
"Sir."  
  
He turned to leave when - "Oh, and Boh."  
  
"Yes, sir?" "Don't try to be a hero."  
  
Mavrik nodded before continuing up the steep passage. 'Don't be a hero', he thought harshly. Its only scouting, what could that possibly entail that would require me to be rash? A good scout isn't seen and doesn't get caught. So why should I?  
  
Shaking away the bitterness he smiled ruefully and was determined to see his task through as best as could be done. No. Better. Keeping to the shadows close to the rock, he made his way through the landscape until he found a niche that allowed for climbing. He had decided that the best view would be one from the top - that and the fact that none could ambush him from above.  
  
The determined youth fought his way to the top and, making sure that he wasn't being followed or watched, proceeded to go about his assignment. What he saw was this:  
  
Nothing but sand and barren earth as far as the eye could see, save for the rumbling of a waterfall from behind one of the bluffs. The canyon below was wide and its walls dangerously high. One could also make out a strange grouping of shadows which suggested yet another passage deeper into the land, seemingly narrower than the one from which he had come.  
  
Not a soul to be beheld. Not a sound save the whistling wind. It seemed as though all of the Goddesses' creatures had truly forsaken this place and all of the surrounding landscape.  
  
Yet the largest obstacle was the fact that, even at the canyon's narrowest point, one still required a bridge to cross. And what was worse, there were no trees about with which to build one. How would the company get across?  
  
The only other option which presented itself upon Mavrik's initial pondering was the rope that every member of the company carried with them in their packs. Otherwise, however, every other commodity they had brought with them was, for all intents and purposes, useless. Yet even assuming that the rope could be heaved to the corresponding ledge, there was nothing on which to snag it on that would provide the adequate support for a man's weight.  
  
Mavrik suddenly snapped his fingers in triumph. His plan might be a bit lengthy and tedious, but it was the only solution he could come up with. Carefully making his way back, he reported his findings to the Lieutenant Commander who said he would save his congratulations until they were on the other side of the canyon.  
  
They continued with a few grunts at first, traversing the gap between the rock in single file. The sight they beheld once they had emerged was unforgettable.  
  
Crystal clear waters crashed upon the stone hundreds of feet below in an opaque mist. The once placid river's flow had increased over its miles of travel and evolved to a raging roar.  
  
Rone's voice rang like a shot in the otherwise empty space. "Well, men, onwards."  
  
Once again the men unshouldered their packs, each of them producing a coil of thick rope. Knotting them together, each man climbed down the side of the cliff face one by one while the others held the line fast. The last man was to remain behind in case something went wrong and someone needed to go back to Hyrule City for help.  
  
Once at the banks of the rushing river, the company made their way across by tying the rope about their waist and swimming to the other side. Albeit the river carried them somewhat downstream, the line was long enough to compensate for this. Since Rone was senior person, he was in a position of leadership and therefore was last to cross after all of his men had made it safely.  
  
Securing the rope about him, he tossed the remainder over to Mavrik and the others, who proceeded to pull him across. Yet already the rope had become slippery from the previous crossings, and the soldiers struggled to maintain their grip. They wrapped the rope about their hands and braced themselves against the current, but there was nothing that could have prepared them for what happened next.  
  
Rone disappeared suddenly beneath the rushing river.  
  
"Wait! Stop!" someone called.  
  
"Where's the LT?" another cried.  
  
Mavrik tried but could see no one. The only thing he knew that they could do was to keep hauling in the rope. Saying as much to the others, they began to pull harder, afraid every second that the line would snap under the pressure or that they would unwittingly scrape the LT against some unforeseen rock at the bottom of the riverbed. Finally a great hand shot out of the water and a half-drowned Rone was pulled out. "Well, that was interesting. Suppose the river wanted to see who could hold their breath the longest and I guess I almost lost. Thank you."  
  
He looked each of them in turn with a silent nod in gratitude before removing and wringing out his sopping shirt and telling them all to press on.  
  
As Mavrik had deduced earlier, the Gerudo must have carved out an emergency path up the other side of the cliff face, and so they had. Finding the hidden path was another story until someone serendipitously decided to rest by the waterfall and found it concealed behind. The path was quite slippery and the men hard a difficult time maintaining their footing. After every one of them had stumbled at least once or twice, they had finally reached the top.  
  
Once again Mavrik was called upon to scout the terrain ahead, and once again he found that everything looked in the clear. By this time nightfall was well under way and there was only the pale moon above to guide them. Yet the same soft footing and darkness which muffled and kept them hidden, cloaked their enemies quite nicely as well.  
  
Gerudo scouts pursued the company on all sides, each armed with a pair of deadly swords. They scurried about in the shadows behind and on the rocks above, observing, planning. It was midnight before the company reached the great stairs hewn from the stone that led to the imposing fortress above.  
  
It was soon after their discovery that the first arrows were shot and the first cries rang out in the ominous desert silence.  
  
It would be well after dawn before the last of the blood would be shed.  
  
* * * 


	3. Chapter Three: Talents

From quiet, orderly stealth erupted riotous chaos in all of its delicious confusion - a perfect foil for the onslaught of Gerudo coming the company's way. Within moments their ranks had been cut nearly in half, and those remaining upright were coiled into a tight circle, shielding the wounded at their core. Save the occasional counterstrike of a particularly enraged member of the company, all maneuvers were strictly offensive.  
  
Rone was among the few left standing and proved himself particularly fluent in the art of profanity when an enemy blade drank deeply of the nutrient rich liquids flowing through his sword arm. Mavrik turned to call out to him from where he knelt among the circle of the wounded but was cut short when he saw the great man fall.  
  
Not knowing why or caring how, he suddenly became determined to slay every whoreson who had even the chanciest drop of desert blood flowing through their veins. When enough years had passed to allow him to reflect unbiased at the situation, Mavrik could concede to Sara that her musings were correct after all, and that the temporary lapse of mental clarity was the product of witnessing the fall of a loathed enemy and a respected comrade not by one's own hands.  
  
He lashed out blindly in a fit of rage which went unchecked until reinforcements came for their attackers and he was bludgeoned mercilessly in the back of the head with the butt end of a scythe into sweet senselessness. When he awoke it was to a room hewn from the canyon rock barely large enough for a decent pace and cramped with those of his fellows who had survived. The latter was an enlightenment he received only after nearly beating it out of one of the dejected members of the former company, cloaked though not comforted in the heavy desert heat and silence.  
  
Rone was not among them.  
  
Mavrik began to pace restlessly, careful of those lying on the ground. He looked around at the sorry faces full of sweat and dirt around him and wanted to cry at the pity he felt. Ashamed at the salty liquid that stung his eyes, he turned away and pressed his forehead against the cold stone. He shouldn't be crying, he told himself, he was one of the lucky ones.  
  
The shock of something cool in the sweltering heat made him gasp, and the gasp turned into cries for breath, for the Goddesses mercy, for any solace in this merciless wasteland and these meaningless people who had torn them away from their homes, their families.His love.  
  
"Sara!" He couldn't help it. The tears flowed freely now. All of the sorrows and grief he had held in during the long march overland.  
  
Little did he know that somewhere in a sleepy little town, miles away from anything remotely resembling such discontent, there was an answering cry to his own.  
  
* * *  
  
By a spring in a clearing within the surrounding forest of her hometown knelt Saramye. Her eyes were red-rimmed and the bright scars of tears ran down her cheeks, yet her body remained rigid, stunned. As clearly as if he was with her, she swore she heard Mavrik crying out to her. That's when the tears had begun to flow and, just as suddenly as they had come, stop.  
  
At first she had shaken her head, thinking it was her fears. I'm worrying myself too much, she thought, I'm stressing myself out. Yet there was something about the suddenness of those emotions and the total lack for their justification that made her wonder if in fact they were not her own. "What's happening to me?" she asked of the wispy clouds floating high above her head in the blue. "I wish I knew how you are faring out there, beloved." She whispered his name into the peaceful silence surrounding her as though the passing breeze would offer her answers. She half expected it to. It did not.  
  
She wiped the stains of dried tears from her eyes with one sleeve and looked about her, thinking of nothing and everything all at once.  
  
It was times of isolation like this that her thoughts were allowed to run wild wherever they chose the length and breadth of the kingdom, of her world. Taking all sorts of shapes and forms, contemplating so many things at once until she lost herself in a world of thought until everything became a blur and she could almost cry out for the disorganization of it. And she hated it.  
  
Why couldn't she just stop thinking and be herself? Why couldn't she tap into the haven of her emotions and remain there naïve, happy, free. "No," she said aloud. "I do know why. Because without thought I have no proof that I am alive, and where would I be then?" She half sighed, half chuckled, "Goddess, what a morbid thought!"  
  
"Sara!" It was her mother from somewhere outside the confined of her forest retreat.  
  
"I'm coming!" she replied.  
  
She stood to leave, letting all of her previous thoughts vanish from within her. Stripping herself of everything she knew, all the things she thought she knew, and anything she had ever heard mentioned of what people could and could not do until only her inner most existence and intuitions were left.  
  
She returned to the village convinced that those emotions were not her own, but in fact the cries and longings of a very special soldier far away in his own private hell.  
  
"Sara?" Ademina looked her daughter's sultry expression over. For such a youthful age, she seemed so tired - exhausted, even - and it worried her. "Darling you haven't spoken much since you came home this afternoon. What's the matter?"  
  
Saramye sighed. She truly was exhausted. All of her energies had been spent trying to block out others' emotions that she may continue about her life in peace. Yet all she had managed to do was block out her own in the process. She felt empty, numb. She wished desperately that she could tell her mother - someone, anyone - about what was happening to her, and yet she felt that they couldn't possibly understand.  
  
"I'm just.sleepy, I guess." Sara looked up at her mother pleadingly and received a telltale look of disbelief, followed by one of resignation. Her mother was confused by her daughter's behavior, yet trusted her to make her own choices no matter how much the worry festered within her loving heart. They both knew this. The thought made Saramye nauseous.  
  
"Sara!" Ademina rushed for a pot from the cupboard to place beneath her daughter's doubled form.  
  
"Forgive me," came the child's voice, barely audible.  
  
"Hush, dearest, don't be silly," the older woman soothed. "Everyone gets a little sick sometimes. Now tell me, what have you eaten today?"  
  
"It's not that. It's."  
  
"There, there. Don't fight it, just let it all out. You'll feel much better once there's nothing left to come up." She handed her a small washcloth when the worst of it seemed to be over. "Clean yourself up."  
  
"Thank you. It's just."  
  
Ademina was afraid that her daughter had begun to choke with the liquid when her hands came up to muffle the sobbing from beneath them.  
  
"Mavrik is hurt, mother," Sara burst. "There's something wrong with him. I'm not sure what it is, but he was crying, mother. I felt him crying!"  
  
"Nonsense, love," Ademina tried gently, placing an arm around heaving shoulders. "Mavrik is fine, darling. Off training in the fields somewhere trying to make you proud of him. And he does try so hard, darling. He loves you. He's making something of himself for the both of you. For your future. Don't fret, now, he can take care of himself. He's fine, I promise."  
  
Saramye shook her head fervently against her mother's shoulder. "You're wrong. He's in pain, I know it! Please, mother, why can't you just believe me this once?"  
  
The sight of Saramye's wide, gentle eyes made Ademina flinch for the pain they mirrored.  
  
"Please," she whispered again.  
  
Her mother looked away. "What would you have me do, Sara? What do you want from me?"  
  
I don't want to hurt you, that's not what I'm trying to do! Sara screamed within her mind. Yet what she said was, "Let me go, mother. Please. I need to find him. I need to find out what's happened to him. Please."  
  
Why was she asking this of her? How could she do this to her? Ademina thought, hurt. How could she just expect her to let her leave like that? Go off into the unknown where there were a million people looking to take advantage of her youth? She didn't know that danger, she had no concept of it at all. Why would she want to leave an old woman alone, abandon her without a care to anyone but herself?  
  
No. That was not the Sara she knew. Not the Sara she had birthed and raised. She was honestly concerned for her lover - and wasn't that a noble trait? "Yes," Ademina sighed, "I suppose it is time that I let you grow up, isn't it?" She got up wearily, beginning finally to show as well as feel her age, and Mye couldn't help feeling sorry for her although not knowing why. "I'll help you pack."  
  
"Take the back roads to Hyrule City, the main ones are filled with marauders this time of night. When the sentry on duty asks your business, explain to him that you are looking for Laylee of Hurzd on urgent business. Remember that name well, it will keep you safe."  
  
"Who is this person you speak of, mother? Is he really that powerful?"  
  
"She, darling, is the mistress of Hifei Temoro."  
  
"The Keeper of the Temple?"  
  
The temple of which Sara spoke was known in legend as the Temple of Time, the supposed resting place of the Triforce of the gods and the mythical Master Sword - both talismans of great power. Since the passing of the First Age, both talismans were thought to have been either lost, stolen, or never to have existed at all. Although the modern day preservation of the temple was out of respect for tradition, it still held a certain amount of prestige and importance.  
  
"Mother, how would you know such a woman?"  
"As it just so happens, she is your great great - oh I forgot how many greats - uncle's widow on your father's side..Twice removed," Ademina added after some thought.  
  
"Good Goddess, how old is this woman?"  
  
"A living fossil, that's for sure, but she's as sharp as a tack. She lives in the Fourth Division on the northeastern side of town, right behind the Great Temple. You can't miss it. If you get lost, head for the path leading to the castle and ask one of the sentries on duty for an escort. Do you understand, Sara? It is imperative that you get to Ms. Hurzd before sundown tomorrow or you'll have a very difficult time finding a place to spend the night. The Festival of Ages is in town and everyone will have made arrangements beforehand. Understood?"  
  
"Yes, mother. I'll send word to you once I've reached her."  
"Thank you, darling." After a long embrace she said," Be off now before the night is done, you'll be wanting to get a good head start to the city before the festival caravans arrive in the morning and cause a raucous."  
  
"Thank you for understanding, mother. I'm not sure when I'll find out what's happened, but as soon as I'm assured everything is alright I'll come straight home. Good bye, until then."  
  
As her mother had requested, Sara headed for her forest haven behind the town, from which she had access to all of what her mother referred to as "back roads". In reality they were nothing more than a few unmarked paths through the vast miles of hilly plain that was Hyrule Field.  
  
She made her way for the second time that day to the windmill behind her house and, more importantly, the brick wall which supported in on either side. She climbed the stairs past the well and adjacent to the passage leading to the cemetery, and followed the wood railing to its far end along the mill's northernmost wall. Kakariko Village was as old as the legends surrounding the kingdom, maybe older. Thus, so too was its mill, and the north wall was in a state of disrepair. The blacksmith's son had been working on the repairs himself until he became ill a week earlier. Although not indifferent to his ailment, this suited Sara just fine, for there was a section of the wall not yet completed where the bricks were still lose and many were missing.  
  
Luckily, the smith's son had been kind enough to leave behind the barrel of replacement bricks. These were what Sara had been using to access the crest of the great hill on which the mill had been built, and the forest beyond. Removing the straps about her shoulders of the small pack she carried, Sara knelt and began to place some of the bricks into the gaps. She continued to do so until the only gaps left were at certain intervals, and made for perfect footholds almost like a stone ladder carved into the wall. Satisfied that her weight would be held, she picked up her pack once more, climbed, and continued on her way.  
  
Saramye was not the only one who had figured out this trick. A few of the other teenagers nearing her age had discovered it as well and utilized their knowledge to sneak away at night and meet in secret, primarily those pairs which fancied eachother. There was no one in the darkness tonight. Sara couldn't help but think on the first time she and Mavrik had gone up there to have a kiss in private, and blushed at the thought. Yet she quickly shook the idea out of her head and pressed on. She had been warned to make it to the city before the caravans did and that was exactly what she intended to do.  
  
She passed the meadow where she had so often gone to daydream until only that morning - Goddess, but it seemed so long ago. Into the forest which was only a slight thickening of the trees, but as close to a forest as Sara had ever seen, onto one of the barely visible paths in the pale moonlight. She kept a brisk pace, and was cautiously aware of her surroundings at all times both to avoid danger and to keep her mind preoccupied and awake. Until finally the moon had set and there were only a few hours left before dawn. Suddenly Saramye found herself aware of a horrible thought taunting her within the forefront of her mind: What if she had gone the wrong way and had gotten herself lost?  
  
"Hush now, Sara," she said aloud. Finally, a sound aside from the ominous silence that had surrounded her for the past few hours to comfort her ears. "What can I do if I am lost? Besides, how would I know I as lost in the first place?.The Talent!" Closing her eyes, Sara tried to think of someone nearby who would know their way around. After some concentration, she finally began to sense one of the caravan drivers and found that they were only a little way behind her and headed in the same direction. She was going the right way.  
  
My name is Adri, and I couldn't help but notice that you were picking my brain for directions, my young Talent.  
  
Saramye gasped.  
  
Don't be frightened, the voice laughed, I am not unlike you. If it would please you to stop trying to block me from your thoughts, I might be able to find you and take you to the city. Your thoughts make me feel awfully tired, young.maiden? Yes, that's what you are. It's not easy to convey sex to another Talent simply by thought, but you're different somehow. I'd like to meet you just.Oh, there you are! I see you now. Just hold on, friend I'll be there in a jiffy.  
  
Saramye could just barely make out the silhouette of what she assumed to be her contact's caravan before the sudden release of their mind made her lose consciousness.  
  
"Wake up, pet, we're here," a voice called from very far off. For a moment Sara thought that it might be Mavrik. Her beloved come to rescue her from the torments of her strange voices. Instead, when she opened her eyes she found a rather handsome young man not quite her age yet. He was looking down on her with the most beautiful gray eyes she had ever seen.  
  
"Hold on there, let me help you before you try to sit up on your own like that. A feisty one, aren'tcha?" he smiled, a dazzling white accented by a rich golden tan. "I'm Adri, the one who spoke to you last night before you keeled over. Sorry about that, sometimes I forget what a monster headache I can cause if I'm not careful." He smiled apologetically this time. "What's the matter, Lady?"  
  
"Nothing I'm.fine." Sara sat up a little straighter. "What happened?" She placed a hand on her forehead tentatively, testing out the pressure.  
  
"You passed out from our contact a few hours ago just before I picked you up and brought you here."  
  
Now Sara noted another feature, dark freckles which stood out against the tan under his cheeks. "Where is here?" She asked.  
  
"Hyrule City, of course. That is where you were headed, wasn't it?"  
  
"How did you - "  
  
"Know?" he finished. "Like I told you earlier, I'm a Talent like yourself - albeit a traveling one. I haven't met many like us throughout the kingdom, only a handful. But you, you're special somehow, different."  
  
Sara noted the way he looked her over and decided that she didn't like it. He saw what was in her face when their eyes met again and said, "Look I didn't mean it like that. I mean that your gift is somehow stronger than those of the others."  
  
"Others?"  
  
"Yes, actually."  
  
"Apparently we aren't the only ones," came a third voice. A woman's voice.  
  
"Oh, Runiah I didn't see you there."  
  
"You never do," she chided playfully, flirtatiously. "Who's this, I wonder?"  
  
"This is.Saramye, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yes, but - "  
  
"How did he know?" The woman continued, "Adri just gets inside people's heads sometimes, but he can't do it if you know how to block him out. I can teach you how. My name is Runiah." Runiah extended a hand in friendship, "Pleased to met you, Saramye."  
  
Sara took the hand within her own, looking the woman over. They were of equal height, yet lean muscles beneath tight riding leathers made her seem the taller. Her hair was a rich black, like fertile soil in the spring, hanging in long, springy curls. Her brown eyes held a strange combination of cunning and honesty accented by high cheekbones and full lips.  
  
Not all light penetrates the shadows. Concentrate on your own feelings, not on dispelling that of others, then no one can reach you if you do not desire it so. She advised, and somehow this made Sara feel as though she had just gained access to a few very powerful allies.  
  
Indeed she had, and they came to her bedside in the caravan and introduced themselves. It was almost as if a Committee of the Races had been summoned for all the diversity present.  
  
First came Sulia, Runiah's half sister. Sulia resembled her older sister in almost every way save the definite reddish tint in her otherwise soft brown hair, and her eyes were more of hazel than those of her sister's. Adri would later explain that Runiah's father, of whom she was an almost spitting image, had sired Sulia on a POW in one of the minor Gerudo Wars. "But the girls prefer not to talk about it," Adri had advised. One thing was for certain, Sulia seemed as spirited as her older sibling.  
  
Next came the serious Mardeem, a sturdy little fellow for a forest elf. The last part came from Adri, who Sara had recognized within her mind as the speaker for the group. He explained that Mardeem played it off as "just being short, that's all" but in reality there was faerie blood flowing through his veins.  
  
Finally, the "Zoron" twins made their entrance. "Saramye, meet Zabraniiva and Gareth. We call them the 'Zoron Twins'," Adri explained.  
  
Apparently these two were fraternal twins, not identical. Yet they were so similar in some ways.and somehow different. The play of words was not lost on Sara. It was immediately apparent to her that the twins were an unprecedented mix of Zora and Goron, the two most opposite races in the kingdom. Thus, the term Zoron for these Zora-Goron hybrids.  
  
This pair, however, was eager to explain their lineage themselves instead of having Adri muddle it up, or so they said. Zabraniiva explained that their father had been a Goron, and their mother a Zora.  
  
Although a mix of the rock-like Goron and the fish-like Zora might sound unattractive, they were actually quite the beautiful pair. Both had inherited the beautiful, slightly slanted amethyst eyes the Zora were famous for, as well as their long and graceful physique. The latter feature was accented quite handsomely by the defined muscles typical of the huskier Goron race. Evolution to their respective extreme climates had substituted tough skin for body hair in both Races, and yet the twins' complexion was healthy and soft. They were a miracle of fusion, both in nature and in their obvious and unexpected beauty. Yet some of the typical Zora head crest had remained along the top of their skulls, appearing as though they did have hair and had decided to spike it into a Mohawk.  
  
They were stunning to look at.  
  
"Our father traveled with the festival caravans years ago," Gareth continued for his sister. "He met our mother when Lake Hylia hosted the festival. And the rest is history." He shrugged, then smiled.  
  
It became suddenly apparent to Sara that none of them had mentioned what had happened to their parents since their births. They had all simply agreed to leave it at "And the rest is history". Although she found this a bit odd, Sara knew better than to press people for information, it was rude. They all seemed friendly enough, although she knew that true friendships and the trust that it implied came with time and by deed. Knowing this, Sara revealed to them only that she was going to stay with her great aunt to watch the festival and, having never made the journey to the city on her own before, became lost and disoriented when they found her.  
  
They were all Talents, that much was obvious to her intuitions the moment she had laid eyes on this unlikely group of fellows. How much of her story they chose to believe was up to them, but they probably knew her motives anyhow and had deemed them harmless. Sara spared a mental shrug. If they knew then there was nothing she could do about it, and besides there was nothing of major importance to her personal journey to anyone but her, so they could just keep their prying minds to themselves.  
  
"Well then, Miss Sara," Mardeem concluded, "I think it is safe to say that you are well enough now to move out on your own." He tool her hand and kissed it respectfully, "Safe passage to you."  
  
Saramye kept herself from blushing and replied, "Thank you all for your hospitality. I don't know what would have become of me without your assistance." With that she got up and began searching around for her pack.  
  
"Looking for this?" Adri asked from a corner of the cramped space within the wagon. He held the little pack out to her, haning from one strap on his index finger.  
  
"Oh. Thank you."  
  
"I could guess what would have happened to you without my help, and it isn't a pretty picture I would conjure for you." "Hush, Adri," came Sulia's harsh reprimand.  
  
He continued without notice. "So what do I get for my.What did you call it?.Hospitality?"  
  
"First off, kind sir," Saramye began, thouroughly fed up with his disrespect, "I believe it was the lot of you who helped me and for that I am eternally grateful and you have my word that if in any way I could repay you I would. But, as you can plainly tell, because I can see it now written all across your forehead that you were rummaging through my things, I have nothing of value to present to you save my sincerest thanks. Now, if you please, I need to be getting on my way." With that, Sara nodded her departure to the others and exited the wagon at an enfuriated pace.  
  
"Ouch," Runiah winced with a mischievous grin. "You deserved that, Adri. You know you did."  
  
"Yeah, well," Adri conceded. "You know, I still plan on getting something."  
  
"Like what, you scoundrel?" This from Sulia. "An apology?"  
  
"Perhaps." Adri smiled playfully exited on a turn of his heel.  
  
"Lady Saramye! Lady Saramye!" Sara heard Adri calling after her.  
  
"Lady Saramye please wait."  
  
There was so much pleading sincerity in his voice this time that Sara actually did stop to wait for him. "What do you want from me, Adri?"  
  
"On any other occasion I would have said a kiss from such a pretty thing as yourself, but this time just wanted to say that I'm sorry."  
  
"Yes, I know," Sara sighed. "I can tell. Rather, I can feel it, your intentions I mean."  
  
"Yeah, it's a pretty cool ability, huh? Being able to tell others' emotions. The only other people I've ever met who can do it are all back in that wagon. I'm sorry, Sara. I felt your vulnerability and I thought I could wean something from it but.You're so different from the rest of us. True, we all have our own distinct variations, but your power is so raw. So.free. I wouldn't want someone like me to be on the shit-list of someone like you."  
  
Sara smiled at this last humorous use of language. "Then you should be able to sense that I have already forgiven you. Please tell the others that I'm sorry for storming out like that, but I really should be on my way."  
  
The beautiful and somehow different girl looked Adri in the eyes with such love and comfort as he had not seen since his mother's death. "I will, Sara. Good bye and good luck." He waited until she was almost out of earshot before adding, "Oh, and Sara, that's what I meant to tell you - I can't sense you like the others. They can't either. It's what makes you special. Bye!" 


End file.
